


The Faithful Soldier

by Diana_Prallon



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Drama, Episode: s04e17-e18 The End of Time, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-04
Updated: 2012-11-04
Packaged: 2017-11-18 00:02:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/554672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diana_Prallon/pseuds/Diana_Prallon





	1. Chapter 1

****

### Ironic Life

### 

****

Wilf couldn't really believe in his ears as he heard The Doctor talk about his impending future. Death. Such a human thing, it shouldn't claim a man like him, yet, it was clear in his eyes that it could - it would - happen. The Doctor was scared, Wilfred could tell, but it didn't make him think any less of him for it. He was far too old to believe in such commonplaces about courage. Only those who had never lived weren't scared to die.

And this man, how he had lived! The life bleed through each of his moves, every charming smile, all his words and moves, infusing everyone around with the same sheer will to carry on in spite of the odds, as he did. It was something to be admired, encouraged. And as the words left his mouth, the fear reached his heart as well, for what a world would it be without _him_?

The words came out of his mouth, sure, but he couldn't stop wondering if there was any way out of it. He knew exactly what The Doctor needed, and her strong voice and ginger hair rippled the air, as if the alien's sheer need had summoned her to the place where he stood.

But he was stubborn, of course, and would hear nothing of _that_. He'd sacrifice himself for Donna gladly, and honestly, so would Wilf. He couldn't blame him, as he walked for his death, if it meant she'd be safe. He just wished there was something he could do to avoid it all.


	2. Finn's Awake

He never believed in violence, even though he was a soldier. The violence, the shouts, the anger were never a path he could or would willingly follow. He was a pacifist, at heart, and belived that only the fools that had never seen the truth about dying could believe in a noble death. There was no honor in death, no decency, just the body failing and the grief from those who stayed. He was old enough to recognize it now, even if it didn't make him fear it, for without death, there could be no life.

Still, he didn't like to be called to stand at arms. It wasn't his place to slaughter man, nevermind how guilty they might be. He lived his long life relinquishing in the knowledge that he was no God, and wouldn't hold anyone's life in his hands.

Yet, her words were a summon he could not refuse. If that was a dream, than it was one he couldn't tell from the reality around him, no more amazing than all things he had seen in life. He walked into his bedroom, and pulled the box from beneath the bed, barely glancing at the well known Finnegan's name in its top, before opening it and facing the harsh cruel truth of the metal beneath his fingers.

Tugging the arm in his pocket, he knew that the soldier was again awake.


	3. From Father to Son

Nothing in his life had touched as much as The Doctor saying that he'd be proud if Wilfred Mott was to be his father. This man, who had held the life of millions in his hands, honestly trusting his life to him, and for the split of a second, he could see, in his eyes, how it would have gone.

But it was just a dream, and reality was demanding him now. He had to convince him, to explain, to show to him that he could never - ever - become what he feared so much. The guilty in those brown eyes made him sure of that much, and yet, little did he know about those hundreds of years and the unspeakable things that must pass in one's life during such a long time.

All his years, all his wisdom, it was good for nothing now. He couldn't reason with that man, explain to him how much love, and hope he had spread to mankind, how much that had marked him as flawed, yes, but still quintessentially a good man.

So, his eyes wet with tears, he said the only thing he could ever say, knowing that it wasn't enough.

"You're the most wonderful man, and I don't want you to die."

It was not enough.


	4. Companionship

He didn't care what the green cacti woman said; he'd never leave him behind. Wilfred Mott didn't leave any man behind, especially when they were in trouble, even if all his could do was to watch as he died, he'd never leave him to die a lonely death. The Doctor deserved more than this, he deserved loyalty. He knew, he remembered, without knowing where he had heard this words, that he had saved their lives so many time, without them knowing he was there, never staying, never asking for anything in return, just for the sake of love. And Wilfred knew that man, and loved him, for everything he was. He'd make her go back, leave him with his friend, for he was the only one that could be there for him as he faced the greatest battle of his life - this life.

Even if all he could do was holding his hand as he ceased to exist, he'd do it. He'd do anything just to give him the tiniest bit of hope, just a shred of the comfort he had given them all. He'd be there for The Doctor, for this was the right thing to do and he knew, as surely as his granddaughter had known that he needed someone. Someone to stop him. Someone to watch over him. Someone to remember him what he was fighting for. A parent, a child, a friend.

He'd give him all of this in one, for it was his job, his mission. He'd be there, regardless of the consequences. He'd give everything he needed, and more. The Doctor was worth it.


	5. The Last Stand

As the words sunk in, he regretted the moment that he knocked on the door. He should have waited, in silence, and let himself be forgotten. He was old, and done with this life, he should be allowed the sacrifice.

But not even for a moment, although he pleaded, he believed The Doctor would leave him behind. Just as Wilfred was ready to give up his life to save his, this man was adamant on fulfilling his destiny.

He couldn't, he wouldn't control the flow of tears, he had nothing to loose, nothing to fear. He asked, and begged to be left behind, and didn't even blink as he saw him rage, and storm, seeing the glimpses of those things he had shunned for hundreds of years. All the arrogance, all the confidence, all the compassion turned sour into a string of meaningless words, as meaningless as Wilfred himself.

Yet, he knew the time would have came, the look in his eyes, as he spoke.

"Lived too long."

There could be no life enough for such a man, but everything comes to an end, and so must him. Wilfred knew he would miss him, Wilfred knew he'd never be able to forgive himself for allowing this to happen. No man should bear the burden of being responsible for the death of their heroes. No parent should ever have to watch his child's body lifeless in the floor. It couldn't be avoided. He walked out, trembling with unspoken emotions, and watched as he fell, and faded, crumpled into the floor.

The enormity of the sacrifice hit him over and over again as waves. He could feel himself disintegrating slowly under the pressure of the feelings that lived in his chest. It was his time, and there would be no way out. Even as he saw him rise, and tried to summon some cheer and optimism from the man's eyes, he knew it was a lie. As his battle wounds disappeared, he could see the faint glow of death around him.

He did as he was told, and kept an eye out for him. Every day, in each corner, he'd expect to see him again, his reward taken, ready to leave as the hero he was. And, when he least expected it, there was him, his brown eyes dark with meaning. He knew this was the last time he'd ever seen him, and said things he didn't mean, asked questions he knew he'd have no answer to. They took the gift, without wondering what it was, for it didn't matter: the greatest gift had been given in paying homage to Geoffrey, in coming to say his goodbye.

He stood, as a soldier, his hand on his head, crying earnestly, as he watched him leave. With a final kiss of love, of adoration, of parenting and of companionship, Wilfred said his last farewell to the man that had changed so many lives.


End file.
